


How to Save a Life

by TheDreamingSpires



Category: Hunger Games (2012), Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-24
Updated: 2016-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-22 07:45:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 18,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/607490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDreamingSpires/pseuds/TheDreamingSpires
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He watched her through her Games, half-hoping she would win.  She was so calm, so collected, and so deadly.</p><p>Haymitch may never have seen his own Victor, but he has been assisting every other Victor survive in a new and deadly arena since he won. Sadly, the arena of the Capitol doesn't disappear after a few weeks, and mass murder isn't an option.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

He watched her through her Games, half-hoping she would win. She was so calm, so collected, and so deadly. He watched her persuade the Career pack, which was greatly diminished due to the lack of District 4 tributes, to let her join. He watched her befriend Maxim, the enormous District 2 tribute, and get him fully on to her side. He watched her fall a little bit in love with the hulking boy, and watched her take her anger out on the District 6 boy after Maxim was killed. 

She started her Games alone, a single District 5 tribute, watching as her district partner was blown up by his landmine on the first day, in the first minute of the 67th Hunger Games. She ran, after that. No one could have blamed her. She worked out how to survive in the awful, desert arena. Worked out how to ration her water carefully, and worked out how to use her sword, the sword her district partner had failed to get, so precisely that it moved almost silently through the air. 

She joined the Career pack, what was left of it, after just four days in the arena, but in this arena that equated to the usual fortnight. It was just Maxim, his district partner, and the District 1 boy who remained. They headed back to the Cornucopia after she joined; they listened to her when she explained it was suicide to stay out under the desert sun. 

It must have happened on the way back to the Cornucopia, he guessed. Sometime around then, at least. All he knew for sure was that too many tributes had died too quickly. The Capitol were growing bored, watching District 4 tributes fall down dead from lack of water and District 11 tributes go mad with a lack of anything green. The Gamemakers rarely go back on an arena design, but they did that year. In a crevice that had occurred after the District 5 boy had jumped off his plate a second too early, they built a lake. It was shallow, and the water was seemingly always hot, but it was still water in the desert. 

She moved carefully, the little District 5 girl, he’d give her that. After the District 2 girl was picked off by a throwing star to the brain just before they reached the water at the Cornucopia, she perfected a stance that allowed her to see everything around her, almost all at once. That wasn’t exactly hard, though. There are few trees in a desert, after all. When the District 1 boy had his head smashed in by a rock when he went to investigate a strange noise he heard while on guard, she became almost attached at the hip to Maxim. Maxim, on his part, didn’t seem to mind. She was the brains of the operation, he the brawn.

What could only have been a day or so later, the District 12 girl appeared in the girl’s eyeline. She sat up from where she was lying by the water, immediately on full alert. Maxim lumbered towards the girl, yelling about how lucky District 12 was, still having both tributes alive at this stage of the competition. The girl, the District 5 girl who should never be underestimated at any cost, slipped from 12’s sight without her noticing. He knew immediately that the girl from 12 was dead meat. While the scrawny, starving, dehydrated girl from the Seam of District 12 tried pointlessly to distract Maxim from her own pack’s approach, the girl from 5 slipped up behind her and broke her neck. She and Maxim only had a split second in which to smile at each other before a throwing star entered his neck, leaving him gasping on the ground. District 5 watched, crying, her hand over his heart and her hair falling silently into his face, as Maxim died. Then, she decided to really go to town on the 12 girl’s pack.

The boy from 6 had the throwing stars. He died with one being shoved mercilessly down his throat, after she broke his wrist. The girl from 10 had a spiked whip, which she twirled pointlessly around her head. The girl from 5 waited until it accidently snagged a rock, before getting in close and breaking her neck, too. Still, she took too long. He watched, part fascinated, part horrified, as the boy from 12 - a boy who resembled a dinosaur in a strange, primal way - attacked her, slashing her from her shoulder to the top of her leg with a scythe he had found god-knows-where. She gasped in pain, dropping to the ground, and smashing his legs out from underneath him, pulling herself away from him as his head collided with a rock. With her last remaining effort, she stumbled up the Cornucopia, which this year was moulded to look like a pile of rocks. She had been studying it since she had arrived. She knew what its secret purpose was, and she was going to exploit it.

As she reached the highest point of the Cornucopia, Dinosaur Boy began climbing it himself. As the girl looked down into the water next to the Cornucopia, she allowed herself a small smile. She kicked forwards, watching as the rocks fell and crushed the life out of her one remaining competitor. It was obvious, in hindsight. The Cornucopia was built to remove anyone unlucky enough to be taking advantage of the arrival of the water if someone disturbed the carefully piled rocks. The rocks would fall, smashing both the climber and the drinkers to pieces. At the end of the day, the water was just another arena trap. Someone very wise once said ‘there is no such thing as a free lunch’. In the arena, this was completely and utterly true. 

Throwing herself into the water as the entire structure began to collapse; the girl from 5 appeared on the surface of the shallow pool just as the boy’s cannon rang out. She revealed a beautiful smile, beaming radiantly at the crew of the vehicle which came to collect her.

He slightly envied them from being at the receiving end of that look.


	2. Chapter 2

He first met her in person at the preparations for the Victor’s interview. She had already been crowned: thankfully, a decent stylist had been found for District 5 this year, and she kept up a steady stream of appearances in shining silver fabrics to signify her district’s export of power. 

It was at the interview that she really dressed to impress. Her long red hair was left loose, while her knee-length, long-sleeved, skintight dress appeared to be made out of a wet-look, black material. She did well through her interview, smiling happily through thick, black eye makeup. It wasn’t until she stood at the end that the full impact of her dress was realised. As she rose, a thunderstorm played out across the material. Lightning bolts cracked across the black sky of the fabric, while thunder clouds rumbled menacingly around her midriff. It took him a minute to realise that her stylist had taken all the talk of how much power could be leeched from thunderstorms completely seriously. She smiled at the gasps of the audience, waving and winking flirtatiously at some of the more important male viewers. 

As she walked down the stairs, her dress calmed down, and her entire demeanour deflated. He felt almost sorry for her, alone among a sea of only elderly District 5 victors. No mentor advice had helped her. She had won only on her own character, using her vicious loyalty to her own advantage.

He walked over to her, not yet quite drunk enough for anything more exciting.

“So, congratulations.”

She looked shocked to hear anyone speaking to her, and turned in confusion. Her expression became more incredulous as she recognised who was speaking to her.

“Haymitch Abernathy?”

“The one and only.”

She looked right at him, easily cutting through the layers of crap that he used to fortify himself against the Capitol, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Wally. And Deia. No one deserves to die that way.”

He wasn’t sure what saddened him more. The fact that she knew their names, or the fact that he didn’t.

“You didn’t know, did you? Uma said that you spent these last games in a worse stupor than she’s ever seen anyone in before.”

Uma. Uma Jakes. The District 5 winner of the 31st Hunger Games. He smiled at his vague memory of her mentoring those from District 5 he had fought against, and inevitably killed, if only by proxy.

“I make a point not to learn anyone’s name, unless they are going to suddenly become important in some way.”

“Is that a round-about way of saying you don’t know my name?”

In a strange way, she reminded him of Fern, who had been killed all those years ago, just because he used a part of the arena that was mean to be ‘off limits’ as a weapon. This girl was different, though. She had coldness in her eyes in a way Fern had never had. Her visage was stony, her demeanour calm. While Fern had been all softness and light, blond and blue-eyed, the District 5 girl was all angles and darkness, with auburn hair and eyes as deep green as the forests that surrounded District 12. Her gaze slightly unnerved him, yet he couldn’t quite look away, for fear she would snap under the weight of loneliness that Victordom brought with it. “How’d you guess?”

“Althea Gould.”

“Althea?”

“It means ‘healing’ in some ancient language or other. The Games commentators called me Thea.”

“Mind if I join them?”

“Knock yourself out.”

“Well then, Thea. Going back to where we started, congratulations. And good luck. You’re going to need it, being a Victor now and all.” He marched off, then. After all, he had an image to protect, and he was sure if he stayed any longer, it would begin to show that he had actually been sober for the entire 67th Hunger Games.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has read this far :)


	3. Chapter 3

It wasn’t until after the Victory Tour, when the President held a banquet for all Victors, that he saw Thea again. She was standing, as was to be expected, in the centre of an enormous crowd of her fellow Victors. Finnick Odair, the winner from the 65th Games, was talking to her animatedly, and she was laughing. He had never seen her laugh for real. She laughed with Caesar, on television, but that was fake and put-on. To anyone else, it probably would have seemed real, as even to him it was rather convincing. But, Haymitch was the master of recognising emotions and when they were faked, and the only time he had seen Thea truly happy was when she was with Maxim in the arena, the time they found the water after her suggestion to return to the Cornucopia. Now, she was laughing, joining in with Finnick’s joke and making the older Victors laugh and shake their heads sadly, not wanting to tell the young Victors what would be expected of them soon.

It was Chaff’s fault he got so drunk that evening. He wasn’t actually fully in charge of his actions, he was pretty sure, as he strode over to Thea and asked for a word. Finnick went to join Mags, leaving Althea free to join Haymitch. She followed him gamely, standing next to him on the balcony and staring out at the Capitol with wide eyes. 

“How did you know?”

She turned to find him right up close to her face, looking intently into her eyes.

“Know what?” she murmured, watching him back.

“The Cornucopia. How did you know it would do that? How did you jump into that water? You’re District 5, you aren’t meant to be able to swim.”

She smiled shyly, then replied, “I guessed.”

Now it was his turn to be confused. “What?”  
“I guessed that the Gamemakers hadn’t actually just changed their plan. I guessed they would have always been betting on having to make that lake. So, I thought about all the possible reasons, and I worked it out.” She blinked at him expectantly, waiting for him to finish what she had said. Even in his drunken state, he realised what she was suggesting.

“They put the pool there so all the remaining tributes gravitated together, and then set it so that if anyone climbed the Cornucopia to escape from their enemies, the rocks would fall and everyone around the pool would die.”

There was an awkward silence in which neither of them spoke. A man wearing a fluorescent green suit appeared on the balcony and vomited off the edge of it, before smiling sheepishly at Haymitch, winking flirtatiously at Thea, and returning to  
the party. 

Thea watched him re-enter the ballroom with a look of thinly veiled disgust on her face, before continuing her explanation.

“It was meant to be like the volcano in your Games, I think. It was meant to take out a decent part of the competition, preferably the Careers. The Gamemakers forgot that it would actually just crown a winner, as humans need water to survive. They forgot that until that pool appeared, people would be dying left, right and centre.”

He doubted that the Gamemakers would like to be described as ‘forgetful’, rather ‘dreadfully busy and talented’, but he wasn’t going to argue. 

“Clever girl. But you didn’t answer the second part of my question,” he leant closer into her face, “how can you swim?”  
“That’s easy. Water power. We have massive bodies of water back home in District 5, to generate wave power. My family work with the water department. If you gave me a solar panel, I wouldn’t know what to do with it any more than you would.  
Power stereotype, much?”

He smiled then, and leant back.

“Now I get to ask you a question. Why do you keep being nice to me? I killed both of your tributes in that arena, and they both reached the final eight. No one from 12 has reached the final eight in years, and suddenly they both do, and I kill them. Why do you even talk to me at all?”

“Because I know what’s coming for you. And in the Victor business, kid, you can’t hold grudges for long.”

Feeling as though he had given her enough insight for one night, he headed back to the party. Later on, when he heard someone asking where Finnick was, he heard them get the reply that Finnick and Thea had been summoned to the President’s private study. A feeling of dread settled in his gut that he couldn’t shake for the rest of the evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're enjoying this, please take a sec just to leave a review. Thank you! xx


	4. Chapter 4

At the next Games, she mentored. It was stupid, really. She was only seventeen, and there was still Uma and another female mentor to do the job, but Thea was sent anyway. He first saw her while they were preparing to send their tributes out. He had a couple of scraggly Seam kids (named Rick and Clover – he had decided to start learning names again after last year), and she had two kids who looked as though they could use a little more sunlight, judging by the unhealthy pallor of their skin.

He would have gone to talk to her, if it wasn’t for the appearance of Finnick Odair, who smiled at the pair of District 5 kids before pulling Thea over to see his own kids. They were Careers, it was obvious. Haymitch had no interest in Careers.

“Mr Abernathy, sir?” Clover murmured anxiously.

“Yeah?” Haymitch had grown sick of correcting them long ago. Let the kids call him ‘Mr Abernathy’ and ‘sir’. It wasn’t as though they were going to live much longer, anyway. Let them call him what they wanted.

“Those tributes, sir,” she gestured at the pair from District 3, “the boy doesn’t look very well, sir.”

Haymitch turned from his own tributes (who were dressed in blue overalls and yellow miner’s helmets, with their names printed on their backs) towards the District 3 tributes, who were wearing outfits completely made out of different coloured wires. Clover had a point, he realised quickly, and watched in confused horror as the boy collapsed backwards out of his chariot.

All hell broke loose.

The kids from the Career districts laughed and craned their necks to see what was going on (except for District 4’s tributes, who were swatted across the back of the head by an enraged Mags), while the kids from the other districts all either ran to help or cowered, deciding whatever was wrong with the boy was infectious. The noise level rocketed, and Haymitch quickly found himself unable to think.

“Everyone, be quiet!” he roared, feeling slightly smug when he realised everyone was now listening to him. “Tributes, back in you chariots!” They did as they were told, watching him as he thought through his next order.

“Finnick, Chaff,” he motioned at the two mentors nearest to the boy, whose own mentor, Beetee, was sitting looking a little stunned while comforting the girl tribute, “you get the boy out of here. Thea,” he turned to her, where she was standing with an arm around her tributes, “you go and tell Caesar there has been a change of plans. Try to hold the show up a bit. Whatever you have to do.”

All three mentors disappeared; the two men with the boy, and Thea in the direction of the commentary booth.

She held the show up for twenty minutes, and no one in the Capitol gave as much as a squeak of complaint. Watching a replay later that night, Haymitch watched as Thea flirted, joked and strategized with Caesar, all the while playing up the witty, pretty, fun and flirtatious angle which she had decided to use. The people of the Capitol were eating out of her hand, listening to her talk about the boring hum-drum life she lived in District 5 compared to the exciting drama of the Capitol. She spoke about the love of anchovies she had developed since discovering what they were, which prompted the Caesar to ask her about her relationship with Finnick. She blushed, smiled, and winked, and finalised her hold over the people of the Capitol. When it was finally time for the parade, a few of them looked a little disappointed that the interview had ended.

It was only then that Haymitch realised how resourceful Thea truly was. She was intelligent, yes, but her true edge was her ability to use anything to tug on people’s heartstrings. He dreaded her finding out what Snow had in store for her.


	5. Chapter 5

It turned out, she already knew. Later that year, Thea started becoming a regular guest on Caesar’s show, filling the role of ‘pretty, unaffected Victor’, alongside Flint Corby (District 1 Victor of the 62nd Games, who filled the role of ‘badly injured but charismatic Victor’, with the left side of his body badly frost-bitten) and Dean Pierce (District 2 Victor of the 64th Games, who filled the role of ‘broody but handsome Victor’). She play flirted with all three men on screen, seemingly preferring the badly-scarred Flint to the mysterious Dean one week, then switching the next. After a scant two weeks, there was a Capitol betting ring running on which of her fellow Victors Thea would have a one-night-stand with first. While the people of the Capitol loved the idea of a marriage between Victors, those who ran the Capitol, and the PR people, realised that a wedding between two of the most popular Victors to date (as Flint and Dean were, in their own ways, just as popular as Thea) would in the end be less profitable than a long-standing single Victor. 

Haymitch met her at the post-Games Victor party again that year, but noticed something different about her immediately. This year, Victors were openly encouraged to bring a date with them to the mansion of the President of Panem, but Thea hadn’t brought a guest. Instead, she had brought the President’s youngest son, Caius. 

“Thea. Long time, no see. In person, at least.”

She had the decency to blush, at least. “Haymitch. So, you’ve been watching Caesar’s show?”

“What else do you do when you want to watch something that is both mind-numbingly boring and easy to understand when drunk?”

She was about to reply, when Caius Snow suddenly appeared behind her, grabbed her arse, and put his tongue in her ear. Haymitch turned away, and waited for her to get rid of him.

“Caius, please. I’m just talking to a friend.”

“But I want to go. This party isn’t particularly exciting, and I know some much more interesting things we could be doing…”

“Let me finish chatting to Haymitch, then we’ll go, yeah?”

Caius considered, cocking his head in a ridiculous fashion. Finally he nodded, and wandered off.

She turned to look at him, smiled awkwardly, and he took hold of her arm and marched her onto the balcony, the same one as they had talked on last year.

“What the fuck?”

She blinked at him wearily.

“This is your duty, isn’t it? The Odair boy got ‘Capitol whore’, you got ‘youngest son damage control’.”

She remained silent.

“Wait, you don’t want anything to do with that creep, right? ‘Cause no matter what he’s said to you, he’s lying. Everything he says will be chock full of lies.”

“Of course I don’t want anything to do with him!” she looked outraged, and murderous, and, worst of all, upset. Upset that he had ever though she would willingly sell herself to Caius Snow. “You know how they do business here. They sell your virginity to the highest bidder, then make you see whoever they want you to see. I was already damaged goods. Snow said he was helping me.”

“Damaged goods? What?” Haymitch was getting angry himself, now. He had watched so many Victors go through this, and just helped them in any way he could. Now, it seemed personal and he had no idea why. Maybe because she reminded him so much of Fern.

“I slept with Maxim.” Some of the tension left her body after she finished her short statement, obviously happy to have got it off her chest.

“In the arena?” He knew it was possible – Johanna Mason, the victor of the 63rd Games at age 17, had slept with two of her fellow tributes before killing them later on.

“No! Before. Not on camera.” 

“Before? In the Training Centre?”

She merely nodded, bashfully. He didn’t want details, he would leave it at that. He didn’t want to embarrass her.

“So now you have to deal with Caius Snow. For how long?”

“Snow wants us to get married. His granddaughter, Louise, is quite a weak little girl, and so far she’s his only grandchild. He hopes that if his son marries a Victor, then the bloodline will become stronger.”

Haymitch was silent, then cupped her cheek in his hand.

“If you need anything, you have to come find me. We Victors have to stand together, or not at all.”

She hugged him. Silent tears ran down her cheeks, slightly smudging her perfect makeup. After a minute, he wrapped his arms around her too, and put his cheek on the top of her head.

“It’ll be okay, sweetheart. It’ll all be fine.”

She let go of him carefully, tossing her hair over her shoulder and picking up a half-full and discarded champagne glass before drinking it in one gulp.

She gave him a small, cheeky smile, and asked, “before I go, do you want to do shots?”


	6. Chapter 6

The first time he ruined her life was deliberate. It was in the pre-Games warm up, in the week where the Victors gathered in the Capitol to announce if they planned to mentor or not. Thea was there, with Uriel, the youngest mentor from 5 other than herself.

“District 4 mentors, present yourselves!”

“Mags Corbett and Finnick Odair.”

“May the odds be ever in your favour. District 5 mentors, present yourselves!”

“Althea Gould and Uriel Hadaway.”

“May the odds be ever in your favour. District 6 mentors, present yourselves!”

Haymitch turned to look at the group of approved mentors, watching as they mingled among each other easily. She hadn’t found out what he had done yet. That was good.

“District 12 mentors, present yourselves!”

“Haymitch Abernathy,” he scowled at the ever-present plural attached to the word ‘mentors’. So what if he was the only one? His tributes would all die even if there was an army of mentors parading around, shouting to be heard.

“May the odds be every in your favour! Meeting adjourned –all mentors please gather at the cafeteria in the Training Centre in ten minutes for a final briefing, then you may all return to your districts in time for Reaping Day.” The Head Gamemaker, Orinous Plunket, finished his speech with a wave of his extravagantly plumed hat, and left the room.

There was silence for a split second, before the Victors began chatting once more.

“Finnick? You’re doing this for a fourth year in a row? Haven’t you gone crazy yet?” Johanna Mason had never been the subtlest of people, and her sudden outburst seemed to confuse the District 2 winner of the previous games, who blinked wildly at her before leaning over and whispering something in his old mentor’s ear.

“Johanna Mason, District 7,” he heard the older District 2 man reply, “perfectly sane, surprisingly.”

“I’ve been doing this for, what, nineteen years in a row now? I’ve turned out fine.” Haymitch smiled at the evident discomfiture of the younger Victor, before turning to Thea.

“Can I have a word?”

Finnick wolf whistled at them, but both Thea and Haymitch ignored him.

“Sure. Lead the way.”

They went up to the roof, standing and staring out at the Capitol skyline. There was something slightly addictive about the lights of the Capitol. The fashion at the moment, it seemed, was for fluorescent lights inside the house, and they watch as the flustered people of the Capitol ran around their houses, switching lights on and off before going out for the evening.

“So, how’s District 12? Alcohol still available in ridiculous quantities?”

“I know, Thea. About Snow Junior.”

Her head whips around, fixing him with an intent gaze. “How? No one knows about that.”

“’Cause I told him.”

Her jaw drops, her face pales.

“What?”  
“I told him about how you are completely under his father’s thumb. How you were told to get close to him, to marry him ideally. He believed me from minute one. Not a very trusting relationship, was it? And now he’s run off with your old escort. How romantic. You’re free.”

Her face hardens, her eyes narrowing and her entire body tensing. “No, Haymitch. I’m not free. Even you can’t be that stupid. If anything, I’m worse off than I was when I was about to become the daughter-in-law of the President.”

She turned on her heel and walked off. He didn’t see her again for the rest of the Games, even though one of the District 5 tributes won. He saw her on the television, hanging out of the hovercraft and persuading the boy to join her. He watched as the boy climbed up, out of the water, and into the dry, before throwing his arms around Thea and starting to cry. Thea looked like she was about to cry as well. Somewhere deep inside him, Haymitch wanted to join them in their tears.


	7. Chapter 7

Things changed again in the year of the 70th Hunger Games. The ‘Victor love square’ (a PR stunt by the Capitol which involved Flint Corby and Dean Pierce both being madly in love with Thea, who in turn had eyes only for Finnick, who had no interest in her but instead loved the ladies of the Capitol) had been the most talked about topic in the Capitol for months after Thea and Caius Snow had split up, and all four members of it were milking it for all it was worth. 

A few days after the arrival of the tributes in the Capitol, Johanna threw an impromptu party for all of the mentors. Thea arrived with her mentor partner (the boy who had won the previous year), coaxing him to chat to other Victors. After the boy struck up a conversation with the man from District 9, Thea wandered over to the bar, flirted with the Avox who was on bartending duty, and came away with two shot glasses and a bottle of vodka.

“A penny for your thoughts, Mr Abernathy?”

“Depends. What the hell’s a penny?”

“It’s an expression. It means tell me what you’re thinking, because it’ll no doubt be so depressive and suicide-inducing that it’ll make me feel a little bit better about my own fucked up mind.”

“Well, when you put it like that…” Haymitch shifted down the couch to allow her to sit down next to him. Turning slightly so that she could see him, Thea crossed her legs underneath her and shoved a shot glass into his hand.

“How about a drinking game? Every time one of us is about to insult the Capitol or anyone in it, we take a shot instead of saying it. Whoever takes the most shots, wins. If you say the insulting thing, you don’t get any alcohol, but we can giggle about it anyway. Deal?”

“Sounds like a plan, Gould. You start. Are we asking questions, or what?”

“Questions about anything,” she slipped down in the seat, supporting herself on her lower back and throwing her legs over the back of the chair. “Life before, during, and after the Games. Everything. Anything.”

“That isn’t a position very conducive to drinking, kid,” he smiled at her as she let her head drop and the ends of her long red hair brushed the floor.

“Maybe I don’t plan on insulting the Capitol very much, old man. Unlike you, you grumpy git, I spent months living with the President’s son. I’ve learned how to watch my tongue.”

“Ah, yes…” he smiled and grabbed onto her ankle, pulling her legs down onto the sofa and forcing her back up into a sitting position, “but for this game you just have to think the insult. And I know you do that all the time.”

She smirked devilishly, and returned to her cross-legged position. “So you were listening. Very good. I still get first question, though.”

“Go right ahead.”

She leaned backwards in the seat, considering. “Do you really not give a damn about being the only District 12 Victor?”

“Doesn’t faze me in the least. Ask a hard one next time, girly. My turn. Why did you protect Maxim in the arena? You could have picked him off way before you did. He was just another tribute who’s death you’d benefit from.”

“It was a symbiotic relationship. He did all the menial labour, I did all the thinking. It worked. Plus, I was under the impression I was madly in love with him. Why didn’t you bother learning your tributes names that year?”

“The competition was too stiff. The Career districts had produced some nasty pieces of work, then the kids from six were pretty strong. The boys from nine and ten were scored pretty high in the Training Scores, and you, your partner and the girl from eleven seemed to have fighting chances. My kids did crap in the Training Scores, they were moody, ugly and uncooperative. They were never going to do well.”

“Your boy almost killed me.”

“With almost being the key word in that sentence. You still beat him. Which family member did they kill to get you to do all this crap?”

Thea tensed, then picked up the vodka bottle from its place between them and filled her glass, before downing it in one. “My parents were killed in a freak electrical accident. We lived by the water, the house was built of wood. It was wet. Some rogue electricity was conducted by the water, and the whole house went ‘zap’. End result, two dead parents. All because I didn’t marry that stupid Snow boy.”

She poured another shot and finished it, watching silently as he took the bottle, uncapped it, and gulped straight from the top. He knew that no matter how much he drank, alcohol wouldn’t ease the feeling of red-hot guilt which had just surged through him. 

“It would have taken a fair few shots to properly balance out that one, believe me.”

She gave him a small smile, before Flint Corby appeared behind her and picked her up, out of her seat, using just his good arm.

“Where’s Odair? The camera crew have arrived, and we need to start out whole ‘madly in love’ sketch pretty soon.”

“Oh, he’s…” Thea started confidently, turning around in Flint’s arm, “not here.”

“Odair, bunk off a party? Never.” Haymitch stood up, looking around the party and watching as Dean Pierce sidled up to the group.

“I spoke to Mags,” he began quietly, “and she says he didn’t come. He wanted to stay and have a chat with one of their tributes.”

“Must be somebody really promising,” mused Flint, finally restoring Thea to her feet.

“How’re yours, Abernathy?” inquired Dean, trying to feign disinterest.

“Reasonable,” Haymitch lied fluently, “why, Pierce? Got anyone special?”

“The girl has promise,” he ceded, “but the boy thinks he knows everything. Won’t listen to a word I say. I showed him a video of Thea’s year, to show him how completely unpredictable the arena is. He just laughed at me, and said ‘well, it definitely won’t be that, then, as they’ve had it so recently’. He was given a caution by the escorts the other day there for being caught ‘fraternizing’ with the girl from three. I was mortified.”

“You must be really annoyed. I’ve never heard you speak that many words in a row before.”

“He is, believe me,” added Flint. “He hasn’t shut up about the kid since they arrived. I think he’s half hoping his little tribute gets eaten by some muttation.”

“I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, Corby,” growled Dean, “now more to the point, we need Odair. Is the girl his new crush? Is he going to ruin our perfect impression of tragic love on a regular basis? What the hell are we going to tell everybody?”

“Whatever works, Dean. As usual. Whatever makes them happy.” Thea shook her hair over her shoulder, and smiled at her mentor partner as he approached. “Hey, Otto. We should probably get going. Bye, guys.”

Haymitch, Flint and Dean waved the pair from District 5 off, all smirking at the relief on Otto’s face that he didn’t have to stay any longer.

Annie Cresta or ‘Finnick’s crush’ as Dean put it, would end up the winner of the 70th Hunger Games. And, true to Flint’s joke, Dean’s tribute was ripped apart by an alligator-like muttation on the third day of the Games.


	8. Chapter 8

The first time she properly confided in him wasn’t until two years later. She didn’t mentor at the 71st Games, but reappeared for the 72nd. For once, she came and found him, instead of the pair of them being forced together.

He was passed out in a drunken stupor, lying across the sofa in the District 12 rooms at the Training Centre.  She sat down carefully next to him, shaking his shoulder.

“Haymitch? You awake?”

“Am now,” he grumbled irritably, rolling over to look up at her.

“You were never asleep anyway, where you? You’d have stabbed me if you were. Or is that rumour about the knife totally fictitious?”

He snorted, growled and moved away from her, mashing his face into the cushions.

She laughed softly, and went to sit on one of the armchairs nearby.

“The 72nd Hunger Games. Wow. How’re your tributes this year?”

When he was silent, she continued, “I honestly don’t think mine’ll have a chance. It’s awful. They smile at me, talk to me, so hopeful. The girl, Honor, told me that she watched my Games. She’s 18, Haymitch. So close to escaping without ever having to compete. She seems to think that I can save her. I don’t know what to tell her. The boy just stays in his room. Doesn’t even go down to training half the time. Otto says he’s praying. God only knows what for.” Haymitch watched her curl up in her seat as she laughed darkly. “Well, I suppose God _does_ know what he’s praying for, being God and all.”

They sat in a companionable silence for what could have been five minutes, but could have been an hour.

“I’m scared, Haymitch.”

“What?” Haymitch pulled himself slowly up to a sitting position, grimacing slightly at the pain in his head.

“I’m scared.”

“Why? For your tributes? Thea, kids die every year. Sometimes the least promising ones actually do pretty well, and the flashy ones do badly. Remember your year? Everyone was so excited about the District 4 tributes, the siblings, with their flashy costumes and their popular mentor and all their talk about omens out at sea telling them that it was going to be a good year for their district. Then they were both dead within the first day or so.”

“Not for the tributes, Haymitch, but thanks anyway.”

“Then what for?” Haymitch’s patience was wearing thin. He was fond of Thea, and wanted to help her, but he was currently nursing what was going to be the mother of all hangovers, and she was being irritatingly cryptic.

“They’ve worked it out.”

“Who’s worked what out?”

“The Capitol, or at least the people who run it. They’ve realised that Finnick’s heart isn’t in it.”

“In what? Spit it out, girly.”

“Isn’t in pretending to be in love with the entire Capitol. Isn’t in being part of the stupid ‘love square’ that Caesar never shuts up about. They’ve realised he loves Annie, and they’re going to punish him for it. Flint and Dean and I have been covering him for long as we could. Johanna and Otto have been helping. But nothing we could do was good enough. We failed him, they’re coming for him, and he doesn’t even know it yet.”

“What the hell do you mean, ‘he doesn’t even know it yet’?”

“He’s in District 4, with Annie. Two of the other Victors are covering mentoring this year. Surely you’ve noticed?”

“I’ve been preoccupied. And for ‘preoccupied’, read ‘drunk out of my skull’.”

“Great. Just great.  What have they done to us, Haymitch? We’re meant to be Victors, champions, yet we’re all either scared out of our wits, or spend our lives blocking out the pain. How is that natural?”

“There’s nothing ‘natural’ about forcing children to kill each other in an arena. Once the Capitol started doing that, there was never going to be anything ‘natural’ about anyone who had anything to do with it.”

“I’ve never noticed, but you make some pretty intelligent and philosophical comments when you’re drunk, Haymitch.”

“Thanks. So, what are you going to do about the Finnick situation?”

“There’s nothing we can do, Haymitch. It’s not as though any of us can take his place. The Capitol wants him for being… loving to the women of the Capitol. They want him for the way he looks. I can’t do that for him – I’m a woman myself. I physically can’t take on his client list. Most of the people of the Capitol are happy to look at Flint from afar and watch him on chat shows, but they don’t want to sleep with him. He’s too scarred from the frostbite.”

“What about Pierce?”

“He already has a long client list which he needs to keep happy.”

“So no room for Finnick’s lady loves?”

“No.” She dropped her head backwards onto the back cushion of the armchair, closing her eyes and looking totally defeated.

He hated seeing her like that.

Standing up and walking over to where Thea was sitting, he picked her up and sauntered back over to his own seat and flopped back down, keeping her sitting on his lap. It took him a minute in his drunken stupor to realise that his body was shaking because Thea was crying, silently, her head buried in his neck and her sweet-smelling hair brushed up against her face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the long wait - I've had some really irritating computer issues :(  
> Thanks for sticking with Thea (and me)!


	9. Chapter 9

The first time he kissed her was later that year. It was a particularly bad year for both of them: both of their male tributes were killed in the Cornucopia.

All twenty-three mentors sat around in a large, white room, each in a separate cubicle. Although one side of each of their cubicles opened out onto the enormous map of the arena that occupied the centre of the room, the other sides of the cubicles were adorned with a smaller screen, showing the antics of each mentor’s own tribute, and a screen which showed sponsor gifts which had been sent, or were awaiting sending, as well as alliances and a death toll.

As Haymitch watched one of his tributes get ripped apart by the Career pack, the screen changed from being split in half to being completely governed by the surviving female. It was odd, really. If he’d had to put money on one of his tributes surviving the Cornucopia, it wouldn’t have been the one who ultimately got away.

His eyes followed as the girl ran up the side of the hill (as this year’s arena was a crater-covered wasteland, with each crater holding a different menace: creature-ridden waters, quicksand and secret entrances to caves which held horrendous monsters being just a few) which encased the Cornucopia, she noted the forest which stretched over about a quarter of the arena. Haymitch knew that there was a hidden crater full of starved muttations midway into the forest. His tribute didn’t.

Luckily for him, the pair from eleven began to chase her then, and she changed course, towards a stretch of rocky terrain which housed two craters, both of which were built to trip the tributes’ up and cause them to bash their heads in on a rock.

She slipped and skidded on her back down the side of the crater, and the elevens decided it would be dangerous to follow. She camped out in the crater that night, watching as her district partner’s face appeared in the sky along with the anthem of Panem. She didn’t notice the face of the District 5 boy go by, followed by the girl from six. Haymitch did. This was good. It meant the girl from five was ally-less. It was time to have a word with Thea.

Haymitch walked around the ring of cubicles until he found the one he was searching for. If the door to a cubicle was left open, it could be assumed that whoever was inside was happy to chat. If the door (with the district number and surname of the mentor is housed on the back) was closed, it meant that the mentor was not open to debate at the moment.

The door for ‘5 – Hadaway’ was wide open, but Uriel was nowhere to be seen. It was tough, losing your tribute at the Cornucopia. You always felt that little bit of guilt that maybe you hadn’t told the kid not to go there, to be careful, enough times. Haymitch guessed that Uriel was off somewhere, doing whatever he did to cope with being a tribute-less mentor, and thoroughly damaged Victor. Whatever he was doing, Haymitch hoped he was enjoying himself.

Moving past that door, he came to ‘5-Gould’ and barged in.

“Uriel, I told you already. Just go do whatever you want to do. I’ll cover this one, m’kay?”

“How noble of you. Taking charge of the girl like that. Aren’t you going to feel guilty when she dies?”

Thea whipped her head around and scowled at him, before returning her eyes to the screen in front of her.

“I’m aiming for final eight, Abernathy. Go away. Your girl’s still alive, right? Shouldn’t you be helping her, instead of irritating me? I’ll still be here tomorrow, you can get on my nerves then. She’ll probably be dead in five minutes.”

“The last time a girl from District 5 got in the final eight was…”

“The 67th Games. And you know what? She won. She’s sitting right in front of you. Piss off.”

“Language, girly. As fun as this is, I didn’t come here to fight. I came to ask for an alliance.”

“What?” At least he had her attention.

“An alliance. Between five and twelve. Sound good?”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

There was a silence while Thea considered her options. “Yeah. Sounds fantastic. Any nibbling from sponsors yet?”

“None. You?”

“One guy asked me whether I thought that this year was going to be a repeat of my year, you know? What with my boy being killed in minute one and all.”

“What did you say?”

“I smiled coyly and said ‘maybe’.”

“It is a little early for sponsor requests.”

“Honestly, I think most people just want another little romance, you know? Johanna gave them one a few years before me, and then I gave them one. They haven’t had one for four years now, and I don’t think this Games is going to be particularly romantic.”

“Maybe.”

Thea turned back to the screen, and watched as her girl curled up with her back to an enormous boulder.  It was a good, strategic place to sleep, providing that there was more than one of you.

“Shall we tell our kids about our little alliance now, or later?” Haymitch indicated the screen to illustrate his point of ‘if there’s only one of you then who the hell is keeping watch?’.

“I’ll speak to the guy I mentioned a minute ago. See what I can get.” She stood up, and motioned impatiently for him to move out of her way so she could get out of the cubicle.

As she gave up on niceties and tried to push past him, Haymitch leant forward and kissed her, lightly, on the lips. She stopped trying to shove unceremoniously past him, and instead looked up at him.

“What was that for?”

He ignored the question, and gave his own statement instead. “Be careful. Yes, we need to let our tributes know that we think they should form an alliance. No, that doesn’t mean you should do anything for this ‘guy’. He mentions anything you don’t feel comfortable with, leave. We’ll work it out.”

“Deal.”

“See you.”

“Yeah. Look out for my kid, will you?”

“Deal.”


	10. Chapter 10

The kids formed an alliance, in the end. The deal with the guy came through, the kids were informed to look out for one another, and they finally met on day four. Haymitch leant forward in his chair as the little notification of an alliance appeared on his screen.

‘Tribute 12.2 – Naira Hutch is now in an alliance with Tribute 5.2 – Feena Cole’, the computer informed him. ‘Shared sponsors from Mentor 5.2 – Althea Gould: Sponsor 1 – Caius Snow. This is the only sponsor shared by Mentor 5.2 at this time.’

Haymitch stood up, enraged, and made to leave the cubicle, before catching sight of his tribute starting to light a fire. ‘Naira Hutch’ needed him. ‘Feena Cole’ needed him. Apparently, ‘Althea Gould’ didn’t need him, and didn’t give a damn about what he thought. Let her get involved with Snow Junior again. She was a Victor, it was part of her job description.

Haymitch began jabbing at the interactive screen in front of him. He had never had to deal with the technology behind an official alliance before, and didn’t understand what half of the buttons did.

‘Contact Mentors from District 5?’ asked a box that popped up on the screen. He tapped in the affirmative. ‘Contact Uriel Hadaway?’ He selected the negative. ‘Contact Althea Gould?’ He chose ‘yes’, and waited as the window changed to a black  square, which then shrank to the size of a corner of his screen.

‘Althea Gould is unavailable at the present time. Contact Uriel Hadaway?’ He declined, and leaned back in his seat. The ability to contact other mentors without leaving his own station was quite useful, he would admit, but not if his alliance partner was going to consistently abandon him in favour of sponsorship deals.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have time, please leave a review. They really mean a lot, and I reply to each and every one. Thank you!


	11. Chapter 11

The girls made in to the final nine, and things began to get tense. Haymitch hadn’t left his cubicle for anything more than grabbing a drink, snack, or going to the toilet since the alliance started. Leaving the sponsor-grabbing to Thea was working well, although he hadn’t actually agreed this tactic with her in advance.  
‘Call waiting from Althea Gould. Accept?’  
“Do I really have an option?” he growled, tapping the ‘accept’ button the screen offered.  
“Haymitch, hi. So, one of the sponsors I spoke to today is happy to fund some kind of instrument which tells you from afar whether you are approaching somewhere where the ground level changes. I figure that that would help them avoid falling into any death traps like that guy from District 1, huh?”  
“Yeah. Sure. What about food?”  
“Well, somebody mentioned that they would be happy to drop in emergency rations for about two days for both girls. Uriel told me that you two had talked about the girls maybe exploring that mountainous bit to the north of the arena, but that if they did that they would be leaving the place where they had built such a safe camp for the last week or so, which might seem a bit stupid, tactically. I think moving is a good idea, though. I mean, I know they have food and they know the area, so they’re relatively safe, and they have to fight the odd lone tribute, so the Gamesmakers aren’t going to send some natural disaster out yet where they are at the moment, but what about when the Career pack comes? There’s still five of them. Then the pair from eleven is still knocking around, so there aren’t really any stragglers to pick off left. Maybe it would be a good idea to let the Careers take out the pair from eleven, suffer maximum damage themselves, and then get our two to go and take out the Careers?”  
“And then what? See which of our two girls is stronger? Make one of them kill the only friend they’ve had for the last fortnight? That’ll really fuck them up for the rest of their life. Think about how you felt when Maxim died, Thea. Imagine that if you had killed him. You’d be suicidal yourself!”  
“So what do you suggest?”  
“Tell Snow Junior to shove his ration packs and his ground level measurer up his arse.”  
“What?”  
“You heard me. Let them choose what to do, for once.”  
“We’re their mentors, Haymitch! We’re meant to tell them what to do!”  
“And I’m telling them to do what they think feels right.”  
“You choose now to get all philosophical and touchy-feely and ‘go with your heart’?”  
“If necessary, yes.”  
“You’re unbelievable.”  
“Takes one to know one.”  
They glared at each other, before Thea switched off the link.


	12. Chapter 12

The girls did alright for the rest of the day. The girl from four got too cocky around a water-filled crater, and was eaten by a muttation that went on a rampage, taking out the girl from one as well. As the Career pack dwindled and they entered the final seven (the girl from four was ranked ninth out of twenty-four, the girl from one eighth), interview crews were dispatched to Districts 2, 4, 5, 11 and 12. Naira’s parents and younger brother were interviewed, as were Feena’s aunt and uncle (who she had apparently lived with since she was seven). Haymitch and Thea were interviewed together, leaving a reluctant Uriel in charge of the alliance on-screen.

“So, you two, what is it like for two normally unsuccessful districts to be working together in the final seven?”

“Well, Caesar, it’s great. We get to run every plan we think of by someone else, as well as having a much wider range of sponsors,” Thea winked into the camera flirtatiously.  
“And Haymitch. While you aren’t as regular a guest on this show as Thea is, you’re still a familiar face to the folks at home, being the only living District 12 Victor and all. Do you think Naira has what it takes to join you in the Victor’s Village?”

“If she carries on the way she is at the moment, then I think we can be very hopeful, Caesar.”

“Super! Now, we’ll let you two get back to planning you alliance!”

“Thank you, Caesar,” Thea winked and turned on her heel, walking back to her cubicle with wiggling hips.

Caesar motioned for the camera to be turned onto Haymitch, which it promptly was. He smiled awkwardly into the lens, and followed Thea.

“You shouldn’t have got back in touch with Caius Snow, Thea.”

She ignored him, and sashayed into her cubicle, waving at Uriel on the way past. 

“Thea. You listening to a word I’m saying?”

Slipping into her chair and turning towards the screen showing her tribute, Haymitch walked in behind her and closed the door.

“Can we do this any other time, please, Haymitch? We have tributes to protect.”

“Hadaway’s looking after them for the moment, and this won’t take a second.”

She spun her seat around and faced him. “What?”

“Thea, Caius Snow is bad news. Just because he’s helping you now doesn’t mean he always will. At the moment you need him, and he’s happy to give you what you want. Give it time, and he’ll start exploiting any weakness of yours that he’s managed to figure out. Your life will be ruined; he’ll make sure of that. You’ll have no one to turn to but him. He’ll corner you like an animal, then force you to do whatever he wants. Because that’s what he does. That’s what all Capitol people do.”

“Snow wants nothing from me but what he’s getting now.” Thea stood up and leant against the back wall of the cubicle, levelling their eyes and smiling at him.

“I’m assuming I don’t want to know what he’s getting now.”

She smirked, looked down, and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “No. Maybe not.”

“Just promise me that whatever you do to get our girls into the final three, you won’t give Snow anything permanent.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean don’t agree to anything you aren’t truly comfortable with.”

“I do things which I’m not comfortable with nearly every day, Haymitch. But no, I won’t let Caius get to me like he did before.”

“Good. But don’t tell him that yet.”

“Why not? I have other sponsors.”

“Yes, but I want you to exploit Snow Junior for all he’s worth first.”

“That sounds like a plan, Mr Abernathy.”


	13. Chapter 13

Feena and Naira died in seventh and fifth place, respectively. They made an uneasy truce with the pair from District 11, ignoring the small notes sent to them by their panicking mentors. Haymitch could tell what they were thinking – four non-Careers against three Careers. Logically, it was a good plan. In the arena, it equated to certain death.

Feena was murdered by the boy from eleven, but not until after she had badly wounded him. Both the boy and Feena died while Naira and the girl fought. In the end, Naira was killed, leaving the girl alone and one-eyed. The Careers picked her off easily.

As Naira died, his screen went black, the only image a small glowing symbol of Panem in the dead centre.

Dead centre. Dead. Naira was dead. How ironic.

No, not ironic. How completely unfair. How heartless, how cruel, how pointless, how distressing. Not ironic. Not funny.

Haymitch laughed without humour, and left to find his allies from District 5.

Uriel’s door was open, his coat gone from the hook on the back. Feena had died twenty minutes ago now. He’d had plenty of time to clear out. The room next door, however, was still occupied, although the door was closed, the words labelling the door as belonging to ‘5-Gould’ seemingly glaring out at the world.

Haymitch was about to barge in and try to persuade Thea to join him for a drink when he realised that the noise coming from inside was not the scraping of stuff being hastily removed from a desk, but someone crying.

Deciding that, for once in his life, he would try to employ a little tact, Haymitch knocked quietly on the door, and then eased himself into the room.

“Thea?”

“Hey, Haymitch.”

“You want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

She turned around, hair falling in her face. Her nose was red, her eyes were streaming, and all he wanted to do was pull her into his arms and tell her everything was okay, and was going to be okay for as long as he was around.

Instead, he pulled her coat off the hook, shook it in her direction and asked succinctly, “want to go get drunk?”

Thea wandered over, took her coat, and shimmied around him and out of the door.

“That’s why I love you, Haymitch. You always know exactly what to say to get my brain back online after I’ve had a shock.”

He followed her out of the room, a slight smile on his face.


	14. Chapter 14

The first time she kissed him was the year of the 73rd Hunger Games. Both of the District 12 tributes were dead by the end of the Cornucopia, as were both tributes from 5. Thea’s mentoring partner had gone straight back home to District 5 the minute the cannon rang for their second tribute. Thea, however, had hightailed it to the bar.

When Haymitch walked in, she was ordering a top up, waving her glass drunkenly at the bartender and narrowly escaping falling from her bar stool.

“Morning, Gould,” Haymitch sat down heavily on the stool next to her signalling one of the Avox barmaids to bring him his usual. God knows he’d been frequenting this place long enough for every sodding employee to know his drink.

“Abernathy. You follow me here, or is this just a case of great minds think alike?”

“A little bit of both, to be honest.”

They were silent for a while, both sipping their drinks. Occasionally, Thea would wobble dangerously on her stool, and Haymitch would reach out and steady her. Each time, she mumbled her thanks and gave him a little smile. Finally, after she almost fell for what felt like the thousandth time, Haymitch decided to cut her off. Finishing his own drink, he instructed the barman to put it on his tab (God, he really wasn’t looking forward to actually paying that thing), and proceeded to pick her up out of her seat.

“Rayhitch… Hayritch… Haymitch! Put me down!”

“God, Gould, how much have you had? I never put you down for a lightweight.”

“You know I’m not one.”

“Not one what?”

She pouted angrily at him, hunching up her shoulders as she did so. “Don’t be smart. It doesn’t suit you.”

He laughed, and continued to carry her out of the bar, not bothering to comment on the fact that she wasn’t struggling at all in his grasp.

When they arrived at the lift in the Training Centre, where both their rooms were, he pressed the button for level 12 completely on impulse, only realising his mistake when the light showing what floor they were currently on blinked ‘10’. By this time, Thea was completely snuggled into his side, one of her legs dangling so it knocked into the floor, and the other wrapped around his left leg.

Haymitch stood in the lift considering his options for so long that the lift doors closed in his face. On one hand, while Thea was in her current, rather clingy, state of inebriety, it was probably a good idea to get her away from him. He didn’t want to ruin their, already strained, friendship beyond repair.

However, he didn’t want to leave a drunk and depressed Thea all by herself, in the Training Rooms prepared mostly for two, now dead, children. He pictured her waking up in a few hours’ time, alone, and having a breakdown on behalf of the kids she hadn’t been able to save.

Finally making his decision, Haymitch pulled Thea out of the lift and onto the District 12 level of the Training Centre.

Depositing her on a large, plush sofa near to the door, he moved towards the eating area to find a jug of water and some glasses. Returning to his fellow mentor, he picked up her legs, slipping off her shoes, and lay her legs back down again in his lap, before pouring two glasses of water.

“Gould? You conscious?”

A slight mumble in the positive sounded from the other end of the sofa.

“Sit up, then. You need to get some water down you.”

Thea struggled to an upright position, pulling her legs out of his lap and crossing them beneath her. He handed her a glass, which she sipped from for a few minutes, before setting the glass back on the coffee table and wrapping her arms around herself, gaze focussed on the floor.

“So, you feeli—,”

Haymitch’s inquiry as to her current state of health was cut off by Thea suddenly pressing her mouth to his. Haymitch let out a little grunt of surprise, before reacting properly.

Which meant putting his hands of Thea’s waist and pulling her so that she threw her right leg over his waist, straddling him. Leaning closer into his embrace, Thea tangled her hands in his hair, arching her back as he deepened the kiss.

His mind was whirling, as he considered what he was doing. Nice men didn’t kiss drunk girls. Good thing he wasn’t a nice man. Oh, god, why did he think of her as a ‘girl’? Why not a ‘woman’? ‘Girl’ was the word he used to describe the doomed kids who were reaped every year. ‘Girl’ suggested fragility, youth. Not someone who he should be kissing on his sofa at some god-awful hour of the morning. And she was plastered. This was wrong. He had to stop this.

“Thea,” he attempted to lean back from her, but she followed him backwards, clinging onto the lapels of his jacket and giving out a little moan as she found his lips again.

“Thea. Stop. Now.”

She jolted as he pushed her a little sideways, so she was no longer straddling him. Opening her eyes, she blinked suddenly and stared at him.

“Haymitch? What’re you doing?”

“The right thing, for once.” He stood up, pulling her to her feet with him. Thankfully, she followed after him, without a word.

Effie, the District 12 escort, had already gone, leaving a free bedroom which didn’t stink of lost youth and dead children for Thea to sleep in. Pushing her softly onto the bed and pulling the covers up around her, Haymitch smoothed her hair down.

“Sleep well, Gould.”

He walked to the door and turned the light off, feeling her eyes on him as he left the room.


	15. Chapter 15

Thea came back the next year, but things between them were different. She swaggered into the Training Centre with Otto and their tributes, a sharp featured girl and a reasonably large boy, neither of whom seemed as confident as their mentors.

Standing behind Haymitch were his own tributes; a pair of kids who he had good feelings about, particularly the girl. Plus, he knew their names.

He didn’t get the chance to speak to Thea before the parade. He watched her load her tributes, dressed in shiny silver to illustrate the power export of her district, into their chariot, waving them off with a happy, “Show them what you’ve got, guys!”

Next to him, Katniss snorted.

“What’s wrong with you?” he asked irritably, turning to look at his own kids in their better-than-usual costumes.

“I just don’t see why that mentor’s so happy, is all.”

“She isn’t really,” he replied, indicating that she and her fellow tribute should get into their chariot, “she’s just damn good at pretending.”

After the chariots left and the circuits had been completed, Haymitch approached Thea.

“How’ve you been, Gould? Not seen you in an age.”

“Fine, thanks.”

“Still hanging around in the Capitol all year?”

“Mostly.”

“Pierce and Corby both fine?”

“Corby’s over there – why don’t you ask him yourself?”

Thea turned away, and started to walk over to where Otto had taken up position to watch Caesar’s discussion with Dean Pierce about this year’s contestants.

“For god’s sake, Thea. Look at me! Talk to me!”

She swung back around to face him. “What do you want me to say, Haymitch? You kiss me, and that’s all right, but when I kiss you its ‘wrong’?”

“You were drunk.”

“But in the morning? I wasn’t drunk then, and I was still happy to give us a go. But, no, you’re Haymitch Abernathy, you have to be a first class arsehole twenty-four seven or the whole world explodes.” Her voice was quiet but urgent; hurt, confusion and anger mingled in her eyes.

“I didn’t want to put you in danger. The Capitol don’t give a shit about me – I don’t need a happy ending. I don’t need to be seen in a relationship with another Victor. You do. You need that. And if we were together, they’d hurt one or both of us until we admitted defeat.”

She glared at him for a minute, folding her arms across her front and biting her bottom lip.

“I have to go and have an interview with Caesar. I’ll see you at the Training Centre tomorrow.”

He watched her leave with a heavy heart.


	16. Chapter 16

The first time he willingly walked away from her was later that year. He was so busy orchestrating a win in the arena for at least one of his tributes that he didn’t see that much of Thea for the first half of the 74th Games. By the time both Katniss and Peeta had made the final eight, however, she came seeking him.

“Abernathy.”

“Gould. What do you want?”

“Just a quick chat, is all.”

“I thought one of your tributes was still alive? The sneaky, rodent-like one?”

“Her name is Genevieve, and although she has all the charisma of a hunk of coal, she is very good at staying alive. A little like your girl, I think.”

Haymitch snorted, “Peeta is quite charismatic.”

“He’s also come close to dying more times than I can shake a stick at.”

“I’ll admit they both have their flaws, but…”

“Stop trying to persuade me that your tributes are worth a damn. We both know there can only be one winner, and we both know that if we want our kids to get closer to winning, they’ll need allies.”

“My tributes have each other, and that little one from District 11.”

“Wow. What a crack team, Haymitch.”

“Don’t be jealous just because Jennifer doesn’t have anybody, Thea.”

“Genevieve. And just shut up and listen to my proposal, okay? Gen needs allies. Your little team could use a fourth. Want to team up?”

Haymitch looked straight at Thea for a long time, trying to read her. On the one hand he knew that accepting her terms would get him back in her good books again. On the other, he knew Katniss had no interest in teaming up with someone she hadn’t picked herself, and that, at the end of the day, Genevieve would probably try and take the rest of the team out just so she could win.

District 12 had a good chance of a Victor this year. Another Victor to come with him every year and mentor the kids. Another Victor to put up with Effie Trinket on an annual basis. He had always said he didn’t care about being alone, he had even told Thea that. Was he lying to himself?

God, yes.

“I’m sorry, Thea. I don’t think I can trust you, and I definitely can’t trust your tribute. May the odds be ever in your favour.”

He walked away as fast as he could; slightly despising himself, slightly proud of himself.


	17. Chapter 17

The first time she apologised to him was well overdue, if he did say so himself. Neither of her tributes had been deliberately killed by either of his, so when Katniss and Peeta had their final interviews and celebration dinner, Haymitch wasn’t too surprised when Thea ambled over and slipped into a spare chair recently vacated by a particularly obese Gamesmaker.

“Well, I suppose congratulations are in order, hmm? Well done. You guys kicked arse out there.”

Katniss stared disbelievingly at Thea, while Peeta attempted to make polite conversation. “Well, we tried our best and all, and I think we’re both just glad to be back here in the Capitol.”

“Cut the shit, Mellark,” growled Haymitch in response, “you’re looking at the prototype for your own little love story. Katniss, Peeta, meet Thea Gould. Victor of the 67th Hunger Games. And, essentially, what you’ll be in about five years’ time.”

“What do you mean by that, Abernathy? You already predicting your little sweethearts will turn out to be right royal fuck ups?”

Katniss smirked a little, Peeta merely looked stunned.

“District 5, right?” confirmed Katniss.

“Yep. Power all the way.”

“So, you mentored Foxface?”

Haymitch burst out in nasally laughter at Thea’s confusion.

“Who?”

“Your girl; the clever, red-headed one.”

“Oh, Genevieve. Why did no one remember her name?”

Katniss smiled sadly, “she was good. Honestly, I thought that, at the end of the day, it would be me and Peeta against her or Cato.”

“Yeah, well, she shouldn’t have trusted a District 12 kid’s berry knowledge, should she?” Thea said softly.

They all wriggled in their seats awkwardly for a while, before they a small, excited squeal sounded from above them.

“Thea, darling! I haven’t seen you in so long! Why don’t you come and visit Haymitch as often as you used to? I miss our chats!” Effie Trinket leaned forward, and hugged Thea lightly around the shoulders. “And just so you know, I don’t believe those rumours that Finnick’s found love with that Annie girl. Impossible. You and he, are just meant to be. Like Katniss and Peeta here, or Haymitch and liquor,” Effie smiled triumphantly. “Didn’t you see a little smidgeon of you and Maxim in these two? The doomed love? Of course, these two both survived, and Maxim obviously didn’t…” Effie trailed off as she noticed Haymitch’s glare, and Thea’s stunned expression.

“Yeah, well. He died a long time ago. Haymitch, could I have a quick word?”

“Let me grab a quick drink refill, and I’ll meet you on the balcony?”

“Good plan.”

 

He grabbed his drink as quickly as he could, then deliberately stretched out his walk to the balcony. He could see Katniss and Peeta watching him, even if Effie was completely oblivious. He had told Katniss that he had nothing left to lose. Had he been telling the truth?

When he finally reached the balcony, he caught sight of Thea immediately. Leaning over the railing with a handful of pretzels in her hand, she threw them absent-mindedly at the force field meant to keep them in, and keep them safe. Someone in a position of power certainly realised how stupid it was putting a group of Victors, who had nearly all lost two kids in the past couple of weeks, in a high rise building.

He sauntered up behind her, putting a hand on her shoulder when he noticed tears were silently streaming down her face.

“You alright?”

“Fine. Just tired.”

“You really though Genevieve had a chance, huh?”

“Yeah. I thought the others would all wipe each other out, and she would just get to plunge a few daggers into a few wounded kids’ hearts. How sick is that? Looking forward to watching a sixteen year old girl kill other kids.”

“That’s what they’ve made us, Thea. It isn’t out fault. I’ve realised that recently.”

She leaned against him wearily, “I’m sorry, Abernathy. For everything. I know you don’t want to get close enough to someone that Snow and his friends could use it against you. I know you’re only trying to protect me. I was being stupid, and irrational. I shouldn’t have abandoned you at the chariot ceremony, I shouldn’t have snapped at you, and I shouldn’t have tried to seduce you. I’m sorry.”

He span her, so she was tucked under his arm. “Apology accepted, Gould.”

She wriggled around in his grasp to look at him. “You’d forgive me, just like that?”

“Always.”


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been a long time coming. For anyone who's still reading - thank you! For anyone new - welcome, and I hope you enjoy it!

One of the few conversations he had with Katniss on the train journey back to 12 was about Thea. She wanted to know why he’d kept it a secret, why he didn’t just take the plunge, and why he didn’t think the Capitol would bless a relationship between these particular two Victors.

He merely replied that he was old, and famous for his misbehaviour, and no one cared. Thea, on the other hand, was young, and bright, and adored by the citizens of the Capitol.

“Basically,” he told her, as she curled up in a ball on the sofa, “some things just aren’t meant to be.”

“Aren’t allowed to be, more like,” she grumbled, before wandering off to see Peeta.


	19. Chapter 19

The next year, when the specifications for the Quarter Quell were read out on national television, Thea was one of the Victors sitting on the dais behind Snow, along with Dean Pierce and Flint Corby. All three of them were forced to look happy, excited, and hopeful for another chance at the arena. Even from a cracked screen in District 12, Haymitch could see the fear in their eyes.

 

After the palaver of the reaping in his own District, Haymitch had the opportunity to watch the other reapings from the other Districts. He watched Cashmere and Gloss show their close, sibling bond when Gloss volunteered so he could enter the arena with his sister. He watched Brutus, who had won just two years before him, and Enobaria be reaped for District 2. Wiress and Beetee were the unlucky duo from 3, before District 4 really pulled out the stops as Finnick Odair was reaped.

The gasp of excitement in 4 could only have been doubled in the Capitol, Haymitch supposed. Everyone would be excited by the promise of seeing the Capitol’s sweetheart in the arena again.

He was on the edge of his seat by the time District 5’s reaping came around. They only had four Victors living – Uma had died a year or so before, during the period of radio silence between Thea and Haymitch. He had decided not to bring it up with her – losing your mentor was hard.

The pool for five this year was equally balanced, with Thea and a woman named Delilah, who had won the 53rd Games by, what many people thought, was pure luck. From what Haymitch could tell, Delilah hadn’t left District 5 since her Victory Tour. He never saw her anywhere, and she only appeared on television on Reaping Day each year. Thea had never so much as mentioned her.

Yet, as the name ‘Delilah Forsyth’ was read out, he watched Thea start to get out of her chair. Start to volunteer. To end her life.

But Delilah stopped her. With a shove, Delilah forced Thea back into her chair, marching purposefully towards the District’s escort and shaking he hand, waiting for the male tribute’s name to be read out, and giving Thea a glare that said ‘if you even try to volunteer…’

Thea, sensibly, stayed put.

She couldn’t do anything, however, when Otto, the only tribute of hers she’d ever seen win (although, as it happened, Otto was a little older than Thea), was reaped.

Otto stood, moving towards their escort, not even acknowledging the camera.

Haymitch watched the heartbreak cross Thea’s face, watched Uriel Hadaway notice it too. Watched as Hadaway stood up and declared his intention to volunteer at tribute.

Otto looked torn, but made his way back to his seat.

As Delilah and Uriel were led back into the Justice Building, Haymitch leant back in his chair. Thea was safe. Thea was on the outside, with him.

But could Thea be trusted to help?


	20. Chapter 20

Haymitch didn’t mention anything in particular about the District 5 tributes to Katniss and Peeta. He didn’t think it relevant, or even remotely important. It wasn’t as if he knew Uriel or Delilah, and Thea could do no more than him from the outside.

Unless she was to join the Uprising.

Haymitch’s thoughts turned to whether or not Thea would join the Uprising with alarming regularity. He was pretty sure she’d join the fight, but only if she was certain they would win. Thea had a lot to lose, unlike most of the others involved.

However, Haymitch was pretty sure that Thea understood the key differences between right and wrong, and that at the end of the day she would always fight for what was right.

In the end, Haymitch decided he and Finnick should approach Thea together, and test the waters of District 5.

They found the two non-selected District 5 Victors sitting in one of the major gathering places for soon-to-be sponsors in the Capitol, leaning heavily against each other and seemingly staring into space. Otto looked horrendously conflicted, presumably trying to get his mind around the fact that if Uriel died, it was on his behalf. Meanwhile, Thea seemed utterly confused, likely a side effect of not being allowed to volunteer herself for Delilah.

Finnick and Haymitch approached them at a brisk walk, sitting down on either side of the strange pair. “So, what’s occurring?” Finnick leaned forwards from his position next to Thea, attempting to make eye contact with both Thea and Otto at the same time.

“Not much, Odair. Considering mortality and all that,” Thea readjusted her position, moving from leaning against Otto to putting her weight against the back of the fluorescent green leather bench she was sitting on. “What are my favourite Victors up to?”

“Chatting, scheming, hoping to win. I’m back in the arena as of next week, so making the most of my remaining time is high on my list of priorities,” Finnick smiled easily and got even closer into Thea’s face. “Kiss for luck, beautiful?”

“Okay…” Haymitch stood up, and was immediately followed by Otto. “Let’s get going, leave these two crazy kids to themselves. See you Finnick, Thea.” Haymitch caught the confused look sent his way by Thea, but gave only an encouraging nod in response.

Otto muttered his own goodbyes, before hastening towards the doorway and off in the direction of the Training Centre, presumably to watch Delilah and Uriel train. He needn’t bother, Haymitch thought sadly, as neither District 5 tribute had even bothered to turn up that morning.

Haymitch turned around in the doorway, watching as Finnick leaned enticingly close to Thea, fiddling with a strand of her long red hair and, although at first glance it seemed he was nibbling her ear, with closer inspection actually whispering. Thea was smiling vacantly, listening to whatever Finnick was saying.

As he turned to leave the room, Haymitch gave his own, small, smile. No matter what Thea decided to do, the Uprising was going ahead. For once, Haymitch certainly had a reason to smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays, everyone. I hope you're still enjoying the story :)  
> ~ E


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you're all still enjoying the story - we're reaching the end now!  
> Anyone who wants to come and visit me on Tumblr is very welcome: http://all-i-need-is-tea.tumblr.com/  
> I hope you all had a great Christmas ;)

Finnick sent him a message via a particularly rebellious Avox that night in the Training Centre. The wording was simple and innocuous, just as Haymitch had asked it to be. It was also slightly suggestive and flirty, marking it out as a note from Odair.

_Gould on the fence. She has a great pair of lungs on her – but you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?_

Haymitch made a strange noise hallway between a snarl and a dry laugh, before ripping the paper into confetti and sprinkling it in the fire. He could hear one of the others padding around in one of the adjoining rooms, and was unsurprised when Effie appeared, high heels in her hand and a concerned expression on her face.

“Still awake, Haymitch?”

“Lots on my mind.”

“You and me both.” Effie sank down on one of the plush sofas dotted around the room, placing her shoes on a coffee table. “I didn’t want to wake Katniss or Peeta. They need all the rest they can get.”

“Very considerate of you.”

Effie twisted in her seat to get a better view of Haymitch where he stood by the fire, the light of the flames dancing over his face and creating sinister silhouettes. “You’re worried.”

“Of course I’m worried.”

“Because they can’t both win this time?”

Haymitch grumbled and turned abruptly, staring at Effie while his back was to the fire. “Because I’m not entirely sure either of them will win this time.” There was no way in hell Haymitch was indoctrinating Effie into his little scheme. Victors and tributes were one thing – they lived the worst possible life. Not quite citizens of a District or the Capitol, they lived in an eternal purgatory of confusion and danger.

“At least Thea isn’t in there too,” murmured Effie quietly, rubbing her hands together nervously as she spoke.

“What?”

“Thea Gould, that nice Victor from District 5. She’s your friend, isn’t she? At least she isn’t in there like Katniss, Peeta and Chaff. At least you aren’t going to lose all of your friends.” Effie stood up and slipped her shoes back onto her feet. Walking towards her bedroom door carefully, she turned around to face Haymitch again. “I’m sorry, Haymitch. I know that really, at the end of the day, they’re all your friends. I know that you didn’t want Peeta to volunteer for you, and that you don’t want either of them to die. You don’t want to be left alone again. Just remember, I’ll always be here for you, whenever or whatever you need.” With that, Effie went into her bedroom, leaving Haymitch to stare at where she had been standing.


	22. Chapter 22

The next morning, Haymitch went looking for Thea whilst the tribute-Victors were in the Training Centre. He found her on the District 5 level, flipping through old tapes showing the winning moments of each of the other tributes when they had become Victors. Otto was nowhere to be seen.

“Morning, Gould. What’s happening?”

“Nothing much. Watching our friends succeed in murdering twenty-three other kids each. What can I do you for?”

“I just wanted to have a chat about Odair, and a little conversation I hear you had recently.”

“I don’t kiss and tell, Abernathy,” she replied with a cheeky smile, “but I guess I can give you a brief run-through.”

Haymitch sat down in the nearest armchair, watching as she paused the iconic moment in which Johanna Mason killed her last standing opponent.

“So, Finnick…”

“Finnick has relayed everything you asked of him, and I have given him my reply. I’m up for it. Otto would, I’m sure, be up for it. Uriel and Delilah, however, both plan on coming home. I’m pretty sure they plan on killing each other. They won’t be up for it, not at any price.”

Haymitch nodded, weighing up his options as he moved to perch on the edge of his seat. “You’re sure?”

“Certain. I’m not even going to involve Otto – he’s too volatile, and it’s too dangerous. I’ve ignored Finnick’s request to involve Flint Corby and Dean Pierce as well. They’re too damaged and disturbed – they might let the cat out of the bag. I’ll ask Uriel and Delilah to avoid your kids and any pack they may form, but that’s the most I can do. Ask me anything else, Haymitch. Just not this.”

Haymitch nodded again, rising to his feet. “I guess this is the proper goodbye, then.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve got my team, Thea. You aren’t part of it. I have to be all about Katniss now.”

“I get it,” Thea replied, looking up at him defiantly.

“I’ve got to admit, I’m a little disappointed. I thought you’d be with us – with me – to the end.”

“I can’t risk it, Haymitch. I’m not brave – I’m lucky. I don’t take blind leaps of faith.” She stood up, approaching him slowly. “If you take anything away from this conversation, please let it be that I’m not against you. I’d join you, if I was in the arena. But I’m not, and I can’t. I’m a neutral party, not an enemy. I’m sorry, and I wish you luck in every endeavour.”

She finally arrived in front of him, standing a hairsbreadth away from his chest. He had forgotten how much shorter than him she was, how petite she seemed at close quarters. It was easy to forget that she could, and had, killed people. Leaning forwards, she kissed him lightly on the lips, barely touching him, before pulling away. “May the odds be ever in your favour.”

For some reason, her use of the Capitol’s overused, constantly recycled phrase at this defining moment in the relationship angered him. He pushed her away, feeling only a tiny bit guilty about the stumble and confused pain in her eyes that he caused. “I don’t deal in favour or luck, sweetheart,” he told her harshly, “I rely on logic, and statistics, and planning. And that, Thea, is why I’m going to succeed.”

He marched from the room towards the elevator, grimacing when he saw Otto waiting by the elevator shaft. In his usual style, Otto said nothing, not remarking on Haymitch’s evident fury and instead preferring to stand in awkward silence. After a moment, the elevator dinged and the doors opened, revealing Uriel Hadaway and some Avoxes inside. Uriel was covered in vomit, his skin pale and his eyes glassy.

Haymitch ignored the situation, only vaguely aware of Otto yelling for Thea, and the girl herself appearing behind him to pull Uriel onto the District 5 floor. Uriel fell to his knees after tripping over the ledge of the elevator doors, and immediately started yelling angrily. Haymitch remained silent, closing his heart to the disbelieving looks sent his way by Thea as she hauled her former mentor turned tribute to his feet, and aided Otto in dragging him to bed.

The last time Haymitch ever saw Thea alive and in person, she was weighed down by Hadaway, her hair trailing in the vomit on his shirt and her eyes full of despair, as she hissed something he couldn’t quite identify at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the hiatus - my WiFi is awful anyway, and then my dad started streaming Amazon Prime constantly...  
> As always, my Tumblr is the place to go for all the fandom love.


	23. Chapter 23

“One of the tributes threw up today,” Peeta told Effie and Haymitch as they waited for Katniss to get out of the shower before dinner.

Effie gasped, leaning forward eagerly for some gossip. “Which one? Do you know him?”

“The man from 5. He was wearing a stripy suit at the interviews…”

“Uriel Hadaway,” interrupted Haymitch. “His name is Uriel.”

“Right, Uriel,” Peeta repeated earnestly. “Chaff told us that he turned to drink after his Games, and that was why he threw up. It was the alcohol.”

“Very likely,” agreed Effie. “Such a pity.”

Haymitch snorted and grabbed a bread roll from the table, biting into it savagely just as Katniss entered the room.

“I was just telling these guys about Uriel vomiting today,” Peeta informed Katniss as she sat down.

“Poor guy,” murmured Katniss, taking her own bread roll. “The girl seemed okay, though. She was throwing knives like it was nobody’s business.”

Haymitch smiled slightly. “Good for her.”

Both kids looked at him a little strangely. “Do you know her or something?” asked Katniss bluntly.

“No, but she’s a friend of a-,” he stopped short and reconsidered his speech. “She’s a friend of somebody that I used to know.”

Effie gave him a concerned glance, while Katniss and Peeta returned their attention to the food in front of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just six chapters left now!   
> Feel free to drop by my Tumblr if you have a spare moment!


	24. Chapter 24

For some reason known only to himself, Uriel attempted to attack Katniss at the Bloodbath, and received a trident through the chest courtesy of Finnick for his trouble. As the cannon ran out, Haymitch realised that Uriel had just become the first casualty of the 75th Games. From his position in the Mentor’s Hall, he heard a wail and a gasp from Otto. Thea didn’t seem to react.

The airship collected Uriel’s body the minute the Bloodbath ended, which was realistically only ten minutes into the Games, due to the experience of all the tributes. Haymitch watched the doors of the Hall to see which mentor would go and deal with the paperwork of having a dead tribute (paperwork Haymitch knew only too well), but saw no movement. After ensuring that not only his own tributes and their support team, but also Delilah, had escaped, Haymitch wandered over to the District 5 station. Only one of the cubicles was occupied, and it was Otto who sat red-eyed inside.

“Where’s Thea?” Haymitch asked bluntly, causing Otto to spin in his seat.

“Commentary with Flickerman,” Otto informed him. “Just like she was told to.”

“Who’s going to deal with Hadaway’s body?”

“I’ll go in a second,” replied Otto in a pathetic attempt at defensiveness. “Once I know that Delilah’s fine.”

Haymitch nodded and patted Otto on the shoulder. “Good luck, kid.”

“You too, Haymitch. You too.”

 


	25. Chapter 25

_“So, Thea. Your tribute was the first down. What happened?”_

_“I’m not sure, Ceasar. We were chatting just an hour or two ago about avoiding the Bloodbath just like he did in his first Games, and he seemed completely up for it. I didn’t know what to do when he just ran straight in there. There must’ve been something that he really wanted.”_

_“It looked like what he ‘really wanted’ was to see Katniss Everdeen dead.”_

_“Oh, I’m sure that wasn’t it, Caesar. I know – knew – Uriel. He would never attack a pregnant woman, even if she was a competitor.”_


	26. Chapter 26

Delilah died the next day, drowned by the tidal wave and placed 13th, a damn sight better than Uriel at least. Haymitch sat at his desk in the Mentors’ Hall, and watched as the lights went off over District 5’s terminal, forcing Otto to slip out of the double doors to go and take care of the paperwork concerning Delilah’s body. Thea hadn’t been to the Hall at all since the beginning of the Games – what with so many Victors away in the arena, she, Corby and Pierce were all constantly helping with the commentary on a rota. Districts 1, 2 and 5 were all wealthy districts, in the grand scheme of things, and hadn’t quite got the idea of rebelling into their heads yet.

In a way, Haymitch was glad that Delilah and Uriel were both dead. They weren’t part of the rebellion, so he could never have justified pulling them out of the arena when they went to get Katniss, but he didn’t much fancy leaving them to the whims of the Capitol either.


	27. Chapter 27

Haymitch didn’t think of Thea for months after the end of the 75th Hunger Games. He was too busy in District 13, trying to stop Katniss from ruining everything or breaking somebody. He was completely obsessed by the Victors in the bunkers with him, Katniss and Finnick and Beetee, and those who the Capitol had grabbed. He had no time for the Victors left wandering around, those who were evidently nothing to do with the rebellion. He figured that they could look after themselves.

The first time he really thought about Thea was just after Beetee hacked into the Capitol’s systems, and they were able to see what the citizens of the Capitol could see. Beetee, ever intuitive, called Haymitch down to watch the screens the minute he saw Thea. Haymitch wasn’t told what he was needed for, just that he had to come and see Beetee _now_.

By this time, Haymitch had seen Peeta, had seen how he looked normal unless you watched closely, unless you really knew his face. The minute he saw Thea, he knew that the Capitol had her too. She, Flint and Corby were apparently each giving a tour of their own arena, although they were abiding to the social nicety of ‘ladies first’, so the desert 67th Games arena was first up. Haymitch watched as Thea wandered around, following a trail of death as she pointed out where various tributes had died. The inhumanity of this only distracted Haymitch for a second, before he noticed Thea’s face.

Pale and drawn, Haymitch wouldn’t have been surprised if Thea had lost half her body weight. Although her long, red hair was still as heavily styled as it always was, it had lost its volume and lustre, making it look like an ill-fitting wig. With a start, Haymitch realised that it was very possible that it _was_ a wig.

Nonetheless, Thea acted the part, even summoning a tear when she pointed out Maxim’s death site. The programme and the tour ended with Thea sitting down on a rock at the edge of the now dried-out pond where she had officially won, smiling wanly at the camera and giving a half-hearted wave.

Seconds later, one of the District 13 propos started, and Haymitch hurried out of the room.

Three weeks later, the Capitol had fallen.


	28. Chapter 28

When it was all over, and the Capitol had fallen, and they had decided that there should never be another Hunger Games ever again, Haymitch went back to District 12. He spent days sitting in an armchair, peering out of a window, and considering the life he had lived. It wasn’t much of a life, not really. Or maybe it was. He had played a major part in saving hundreds of people, he supposed, but at the cost of so many hundreds more.

Halfway through one of his interchangeable days, Peeta Mellark came bustling into his house. Before deciding on District 2 as his permanent address, Gale Hawthorne had joined a task force to go looking for the bodies of the victims of the Victors’ Purge, and kept Katniss and Peeta informed of what was going on. Most Victors had been buried in mass graves just outside of the Capitol, although the last few to be killed had been left in graveyards within the Capitol itself. They’d kept a tally of who had been found, who had been returned to their District for burial, and who was yet to be identified. Thea’s name had never come up.

“Haymitch?” Peeta peered cautiously around the door, apparently wary of Haymitch’s recent poor temper.

“What?” Haymitch made eye-contact with him, trying to convey that he had no intention of hurting him, or verbally abusing him. He didn’t have the energy for it, not any more.

“Gale just called. His team have found Thea Gould.”

Inside, Haymitch both breathed a sigh of relief and felt the urge to break something. Externally, he did nothing but shrug at Peeta. “Why am I being told this?”

Peeta looked uncertain. “Effie and Katniss seemed to think you’d want to know.”

“Is that it?”

“Gale wants you to formally identify the body,” Peeta finally admitted, hugging his arms to his chest, one of his coping mechanisms.

“Fine. Where is she?”

Peeta once again looked surprised and uncertain, presumably due to Haymitch’s sudden change of heart. “I’m not sure. Gale’s sending transport for you tomorrow.”

“Fine.”

“Okay, then.” Peeta moved over to the door, and Haymitch wondered why he’d come, and not Katniss or Effie. Maybe because Peeta seemed so innocent and vulnerable these days that they knew Haymitch would never even consider bullying him, or yelling at him. Maybe because they thought it was some sort of ‘man thing’. Or maybe just because they didn’t want to be the ones to tell him that Thea was almost definitely dead, despite his dreams that she would be the Victor that got away.

 

The next day, as he had been warned, brought with it a transport specially to take him Thea. According to the driver, the body was being housed in a freezer unit in District 4 until it could be identified. It occurred to Haymitch that Thea had always disliked fish, and yet now she was being kept in a unit that was almost definitely built to preserve it. He thought about her reaction to this, and it made him smile.

For some unknown reason, Annie Cresta came with him. Probably for a similar reason for Peeta’s appearance yesterday, Haymitch decided. Annie seemed too fragile for him to victimise. Gale was waiting for him outside the unit when they arrived, and together they walked inside. Behind a screen of plastic strips designed to keep flies out, Haymitch could see something large lying on a table. The translucent plastic distorted the shapes and colours of the thing, making it impossible to determine whether it was indeed Thea. Haymitch tried to surge straight into the room, to get this over and done with, but Gale stopped him.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this? Katniss said you two were close-,” he began, blocking Haymitch’s way.

“Of course I’m bloody ready.” Haymitch pushed past him, straight through the flaps and into the room beyond.

Even though the whole unit was the same temperature, Haymitch only noticed the cold when he saw the body on the table. The first thing that hit him was that it was Thea, without a shadow of a doubt. She’d been in this cold for almost two days, and so her skin had developed a slight sheen. A few ice crystals clung to her hair, giving her the look of an ice princess, or maybe a storm cloud. Haymitch remembered the lightning dress she’d worn for her Victor’s interview, and reached out to stroke her hair, before deciding the better of it. At least, he thought, the hair did seem to be really hers.

“How did it happen? Where?” he asked quietly, leaning on the slab she was lying on and staring at her closed eyes, half wishing he could see their vibrant colour again, but knowing that death would have dulled them into being unrecognisable.

“She was shot through the temple in the 67th Games arena, probably just over a month ago,” Gale replied, and for once Haymitch was grateful for the blunt way in which he spoke.

A sudden feeling of nausea overwhelmed him, as he realised that the programme he had watched of her giving a tour of her arena had probably been her last few minutes of life. The leather jacket she was wearing suddenly looked sickeningly familiar, not just because of that film, but also of when he had kissed her during the 72nd Hunger Games, after they had decided on their alliance. Had the Capitol known about that, and saved it up, hoarded their knowledge until it could cause maximum damage? Had they made her wear that jacket the day she would die, to try and destroy him or break his spirit? Or, maybe, she was just wearing it because she liked it.

Or maybe she’d chosen to wear it on the off-chance that he was watching, and was hoping that it would tell him something that he didn’t want to think about, because it might just ruin him now there was no chance of him acting on it.

Haymitch looked at the wound on the side of her head facing away from him, noting that someone had cleaned it before he could inspect it.

“Is it her?” asked Annie carefully, before Gale could butt in and ruin the moment.

“Yes, it is. Why isn’t she moulding?” Haymitch replied, adding a question of his own before turning away from her, not wanting to look anymore.

“The old arenas are all kept very cold for preservation,” Gale informed him. “Well, they were. They’re all being demolished now. 67 is already gone – we got rid of it just after we pulled her out.”

“Where was she?”

Gale considered the question, apparently thinking he had already answered it. Annie, however, twigged what he meant and answered him. “They killed her while she was sitting on the edge of the pool. She fell backwards into it. That’s where she was found.”

Haymitch gave a dark smile as he thought of the disgusting poetry of it all, Thea dead in the pool that she had been the only one to emerge alive from all those years ago.

“I’m sorry, Haymitch,” Annie continued, gesturing Gale forward as he produced some sort of machine. “Could you possibly record something, just formally identifying her? We’d like to play it to the people, so that they know we’ve really got her.”

Gale turned on the machine, and held it a little ways from Haymitch’s face. “My name is Haymitch Abernathy.” His voice sounded strained and stunted even to his own ears, but Annie gave him a supportive smile and motioned him on. “Victor of the 50th Hunger Games. I formally identify this body as belonging to Althea Gould, known as Thea, District 5 Victor of the 67th Hunger Games, and one of the bravest, most selfless people I have ever met,” Haymitch tailed off, and Annie made a ‘cut’ motion with her hand, before leading him out of the room. They left Gale inside.

As they walked out of the building, another transport drew up outside. Enobaria climbed out, and was led into the facility by someone dressed the same as Gale. She gave Annie and Haymitch a perfunctory nod as she passed.

“Why is she here?”

“Once they found Thea, they went looking for Dean Pierce and Flint Corby. The last time they were seen alive, they were together, on their way to their old arenas for some sort of Capitol-enforced trip down memory lane.”

“Did they find them?”

“Yes. In their old arenas, with a gunshot wound to the head, in the place where they were declared Victors. Just like Thea. It seemed wrong to make you identify all three, and she knew the other two better, so…”

Haymitch nodded. They carried on walking towards the main town, away from the docks and the ice fish houses and Thea, staying in a companionable silence as they passed by trees made squat by the harsh winds blowing in across the water. The town was in sight, people rushing around in their new, free daily lives, and Annie put her hand on Haymitch’s arm to slow him down. They finally stopped right outside the town, climbing a slightly craggy rock outcrop to sit down on and look out at the water.

“Did you love her?” Annie asked, fiddling with the grass around her, picking a few strands and starting to plait them.

“Yes, I think I did,” he replied, staring out at the sea and not moving at all.

“Do you think she loved you?”

“I hope so. She certainly did for a while, a few years ago. I just didn’t think we could ever have made it work, so I turned her away.”

Annie didn’t respond, just carried on plaiting her grass. Half an hour or so later, they finally made it into town, and Haymitch got into the transport that would take him back to District 12.

“See you, Haymitch,” Annie said quietly as he climbed in, giving him a loose hug. “Stay safe.”

When he got back to 12, Haymitch tidied up his house. It took him a little over a week, even with help from Katniss and Peeta at various points. Once he was done, he needed to decide what to do next. For some reason, he decided that raising geese was a good idea.


	29. Chapter 29

Just after Katniss gave birth to her daughter, naming Haymitch godfather, Haymitch had a dream. It was one of those dreams that was equal parts lovely and awful, but you still don’t quite want to wake up from.

He was sitting in his armchair, next to the fire, although outside it was snowing. The décor was surprisingly floral and light, reminding him of the interior of Katniss’ house back when her mother had been in charge. The snow made the light shining in through the windows even brighter. Haymitch felt old, somehow. Like he had lived a long, but worthwhile life. There was a sort of contended feeling somewhere deep in his chest, although he couldn’t quite place it. From somewhere inside his house, he could hear talking: a child, and a woman. A moment later, the door opened, and the people walked in. The child, a little boy, rushed over to him, clambering onto his lap and squealing, “Daddy!” His hair was brown and crinkly, eyes hazel and intelligent. Haymitch couldn’t quite place who he looked like.

The woman turned around from where she was standing, closing the window. Haymitch hadn’t even noticed it was open. As she approached him, Haymitch saw that it was Fern, his girl from before the Games. She sat down on the armchair next to his, pulling out a ball of wool and some knitting needles from a bag next to the chair. Haymitch remembered how Fern had always been knitting, always creating. He remembered finding her body, seeing the blood spilled on a scarf she had been knitting for him. Even in his dream, Haymitch winced.

The moment he opened his eyes, he realised something had changed. The room was darker now, and it was now raining outside. The curtains were semi-drawn, and made out of dark grey material, creating a more intense atmosphere. As Haymitch looked around, a woman came in, heading straight for him rather than for the windows as the last woman had done. At first he assumed it was Fern, then he recognised the long, red hair and saw that it was, in fact, Thea.

She strode over to him, dark leather jacket wrapped tightly around her and glistening with rain from the outside. It reminded Haymitch slightly of when he had seen her in the ice unit, but he pushed that out of his thoughts for his own peace of mind. As Haymitch sat there, Thea curled up on his lap, wrapping her arms around his middle and resting his head on his chest. They sat in silence for a moment, before Thea spoke.

“I always liked District 12, you know,” she told him. Haymitch remembered her telling him this when he’d seen her at the 68th Games, when he asked her about her Victory Tour. At the time, he’d assumed her seemingly earnest tone had been an impressive lie, but now he realised that she had likely been telling the truth.

“I know.”

“We could have had this, you know. This life, being grumpy and rude and stand-offish together.”

“I know.” Haymitch stoked her hair absent-mindedly, avoiding her gaze.

“We both spoiled it, you can’t blame yourself. I should’ve joined your rebellion, really. You’d have made sure 13 saved me. I was just too damn stubborn.” Haymitch recognised his own sub-conscious speaking, and it made him angry.

“No, you did what you thought was best. Neither of us was in the wrong. It was all the Capitol.”

“Maybe,” she, or at least his sub-conscious, seemed unconvinced.

“I love you, you know. I should have told you that back when you were alive, and real, and not just a figment of my imagination.”

“I know.”

 

Haymitch had woken up after that, found himself curled up in bed, panting and slightly terrified. A few days later, he went on a trip.


	30. Chapter 30

His first port of call was the site of the 50th Games arena, where he looked at the names of all the tributes who had died so that he could win. The brand-new memorial was clean and simple, and as he read each name individually, he remembered them. He even read his own name at the bottom, considering the boy who had died in the arena, creating the man who stood here now. As he walked away, he knew he would never return. He had faced his demons.

His next stop was the 67th Games arena, where he read through the names of those who Thea had spent her hell with. He stared at Maxim’s name for a good few minutes before moving on, thinking about the hulking boy and how she had loved him first, just as he had loved Fern first. Thea’s name was stencilled at the bottom of the memorial, showing her to be the last one to die, or essentially the only one to survive the arena that had stood here previously. Her name looked different to his on the 50th memorial, as she had technically died in the arena, only much later. The rebels hadn’t wanted anyone to forget the evils of the Capitol.

The memorial was placed at the dead centre of where the arena had been, and Haymitch estimated where the pool would have been, eventually deciding on the spot where he thought Thea had died. When he reached it, he didn’t kneel or cry or put a flower down. He merely smiled, saluted, and moved on.

The graveyard in District 5 was nowhere near as huge as those in other districts, as they had chosen to bury their dead from the rebellion elsewhere. The dead Victors, however, were still buried here, and Haymitch approached them warily.  District 5 had had eleven Victors in the seventy-five years of Games, and they were now buried in a line, each stone designed to be identical in every way except for the words.

The stones were roughly four feet high and made out of a dark grey granite flecked with white and silver. Each had been a perfect rectangle, although the first two in the line were now chipped and weather-worn. These stones belonged to the 11th and 24th Victors, from Games so long ago that he doubted anyone alive now could truly remember them. As he moved along, he passed more Victors, the names becoming more familiar as he got closer to his own Games, and the later ones he had mentored.

The deaths of the Victors hadn’t come in the order of their victories, Haymitch thought, yet their stones were laid out chronologically. He wondered whether the gravediggers had left spaces between bodies to fill once an earlier Victor had died, and shuddered at the thought.

The first stone that made him stop was Delilah’s. Her stone was almost brand new, and simply worded.

 _Here lies Delilah Forsyth._  
Victor of the 53 rd Hunger Games.  
Victim of the 75th Hunger Games.  
May she never be forgotten.

Hers was the first of the four he had been dreading – the first of the four whose death had been a part of the rebellion. Uriel’s came next, worded identically expect for the name and the year of his Games, and a change to ‘he’ over ‘she’. Neither of them had had any family, nor anyone left who knew them well enough for anything personal. He had made sure that Thea wouldn’t suffer the same fate.

He skipped over Thea for a moment, moving on to Otto’s stone. As he peered at it, he realised that he had never known Otto’s surname. That wasn’t a surprise, though. He’d had tributes of his own whose surnames he’d never known. Otto’s older brother was still alive, and had chosen his epitaph, which Haymitch had been grateful for. The boy deserved to have something personal – hell, they all did. Haymitch wasn’t sure where they had found Otto’s body. He’d never asked, pretty sure that he didn’t want to know. There was no need to add to his nightmares.

His visit almost at its end, Haymitch returned to Thea’s stone. Formed out of the same grey rock and made into the same shape, from afar it looked no different to the others, but hers was far more personal. It had taken Haymitch weeks to decide on what he wanted, so her stone had stood blank as he dallied over whether she should even be called ‘Thea’ at all, and not ‘Althea’. Effie had finally cracked the whip and made him choose, and now her stone was finished, gleaming among those of her fellow District 5 Victors.

 _Here lies Thea Gould._  
Victor of the 67 th Hunger Games.  
If love could have saved you, you would have lived forever.

 

On the transport back to District 12, Haymitch considered everyone who he had known, who was lost. He thought about all the good people who could have made the new world a better place, now rotting in the ground, soon to be forgotten no matter what their gravestones said.

He had been lucky enough to have two loves of his life, and the Capitol had taken them both. He had needed his hatred for the Capitol, he realised, to keep him going. Now the Capitol were gone, where was he going to go for motivation? Who was there left to truly hate?

Like every hard question he had ever faced, Haymitch stored it up for answering later. For now, his geese needed feeding.

 


End file.
